Adam L. Reiner – Splitboarding, mountaineering, and lifestyle in the Colorado Rockies

On Saturday I hooked up with some folks from the Colorado Mountain Club to head up James Peak and scope out some couloirs. The experts in the media were scaring the whole city into thinking another blizzard was headed our way. However, we set out on 6th Ave at 5:30 AM and it was already a very calm 60 degrees without a cloud in sight.We headed towards the trailhead at St. Mary’s glacier, which is up a winding road north of Idaho Springs, past dozens of beautiful valley houses (many for sale). We hit the trailhead almost at 7, a bit later than we had planned, and well after sunrise.
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At around 9:30 AM we hit our first roadblock. Not a physical terrain roadblock, but rather a battle of conflicting opinions about the route. 6 people is a lot to keep together on a ski mountaineering trip. It is more that I’ve personally dealt with, so when the egos started to fly, I just sat back and watched it unfold. The resulting route planning discussion should be studied many times by anyone looking to head into the backcountry with a group of heated minds.After finally settling the issue we headed up the ridge towards the summit. For the first time that day, at around 11 AM and well near 13,000 feet, was the first time that entire day that I had to put on my softshell jacket. The clouds were starting to roll in, and for the first time that morning I started taking this shit seriously.The plan was to hit the Starlight Couloir, a narrow chute on the side of James Peak. Looking over the edge of my skis almost made me a little uneasy. But I got this far, and there was no other way I was going down the mountain but via the couloir. I was also snowboarding with an ice axe in hand for the first time.

The Burly Dude jumped down the couloir first, and after a very quick kick turn, all we heard was a very loud icy scrape from the edges of his Burton! “No worries” he said, there would be sweet soft pow below. Bri-guy followed on skies and I took the rear on the Voile. We started off by riding from safety spot to safety spot. About 300 feet down, the tail of the Burton finally let loose and sprayed white fluffy flakes of snow onto the rocks beside. The whole middle section of the couloir had great snow, and at what seemed like at least a 45 degree slope. The kick turns gave way to fast quick cuts in the surf. After the third stop, we bombed the skirt down to the valley below, and looked back up at the behemoth mountain above.
James Peak from the cirque belowAfter meeting up with the rest of the group, and making sure to get in
plenty of more turns, we started to head back out, when the weather finally hit. Suddenly the bright blue tundra that we traversed a mere hours before had become a blanket of white. White snow, white sky, with nothing to differentiate the two, other than the faint outlines of my comrades ahead, leading the way down to safety.
The remains of a 90′s model pickup truck. Strange!Navigating in a white out was very sketchy, but a great learning experience. After making out the brown boulders of “Argument Rock” we were able to navigate out, bomb the planks down St. Marys, and back to the parking lot.

What the hell has happened to the first quarter of 2007? I have been unable or unallowed (is that a word) to sit still for more than a few minutes for the past 3 months. Now as I sit on this airplane, I’m am forced to do just that. For the next two hours I am forced to still my legs and mind and reflect on the fastest 3 months I’ve faced in life so far.

For starters, this all goes back down to Pueblo, CO, where I found at least one part of my soul washed up on the barren desert rocks of Lake Pueblo State Park. After a fun-filled ski trip in Utah in January, I was sent to find a short-term home about 2 hours south of my long-term one. Alone and forced to reckon with the natives, I succeeded in overcoming the difficult challenge of building about $1.5M worth of pipes, roads, walks, and pavement. Pipes that provide your house with water, electricity, and also take away the less desirable stuff that you don’t want around. Roads you drive on, on your way to Bed, Bath & Beyond with the wife.
Between stressful daytime hours full of talk & action, and peaceful nightime hours of thought, I’ve managed to grow into a much stronger and confident human being.

During this time, my own life back in Denver was constantly burning my other end, and I had to endure the task of juggling my career performance and advancement with my domestic life. It was no easy job to do. I’ve spent dozens of hours in a truck, dozens more on the phone or internet, handling all of my affairs with the best efficiency I could. Sadly, no matter how hard I think I suffered, I feel more for my pet cat, Sambuca. The cat had no idea what was going on, just that she would see me for a few days or hours, then I’d be gone. Back and forth, back and forth. However, everytime I open the front door to my home, she would always greet me with superb optimism. Unfortunately, there were others in my life who were affected by my schedule that were not able to survive.

Aside from the demands of my work and personal life, I still managed to push the limits of adventure a step further, as I entered the 27th year of my existence on this world. My newfound passion for snowboard-mountaineering has started to develop into more than a hobby. After many years of trying new sports and many dollars spent on equipment, I can think of nothing more exciting to do than sticking on a set of climbing skins or crampons, and ascending a majestic rocky mountain peak, taking a quick glance at the view from the top, and then surfing down the steep slopes at top (safe) speed, back to civilization. I’ve been taking a class with the Colorado Mountain Club that has improved my skills an attitude on a weekly basis. Each trip I’ve pushed my stamina and adrenaline up and down 1,000, 2,000, and 3,000 vertical feet in a day, with no thought to ever looking back. Last week we took a trip up Uneva peak, near Vail pass, a 12,000 foot windblown hunk of rock with dozens of steep couliors running down its side. After long sweaty hours of hauling up the rock, my first shot through an alpine coulior was like finishing one book in my volume of adventure and starting a new one. I gained the confidence that I could handle anything I’ve seen in the hundreds of ski movies I’ve watched stoned & drunk on the couch back home.

I’m heading across the dark flatlands of America on my way to my past. To see old friends and family. I am looking forward to this trip more so than any other trip to Illinois before it. I can’t wait to see familiar faces, comfortable voices, and jolly good times with no worry. Because if t he next 26 years of my life will go even higher and faster than the first, I’ll need a weekend in the Windy City to chill my ass out.